


Visions of Bliss

by Nefertiti_22002



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-04 04:52:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12763581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nefertiti_22002/pseuds/Nefertiti_22002
Summary: Mr Strange and Mr Norrell have been in the Darkness for six weeks. They have not succeeded in finding a way to escape, and they decide to try summoning a vision of how they might do so. This fails, and they decide to summon a vision of how they might make the Darkness more bearable. The results are most unexpected, and they suspect they have failed again. Then it dawns on them that what they saw might indeed make being in the Darkness far more bearable--and even blissful.





	1. Summoning and Reporting Visions

Mr Norrell and Mr Strange had been living together in Hurtfew Abbey in the Darkness for six weeks. They had made marvelous progress. They had laboriously sorted all the books that had been scattered about the library during the chaos of ravens that occurred during the magic they had performed on the fateful night when Lady Pole and Mrs Strange had been freed from their enchantments. The treacherous Fairy who had enslaved them had apparently been killed that night, or at least somehow banished, and all seemed well.

Yet the two Greatest Magicians of the Age were still trapped in the Darkness. They had hired back some of their servants and managed to acquire supplies from merchants in nearby villages and towns who were willing to deliver purchases to the edge of the Darkness or even in some cases to venture inside. Life had returned to a semblance of normalcy in the sense that they had regular meals, new clothing (for Mr Strange), and plenty of lamps and candles and fuel supplying light and heat. 

They had even learned to move about, taking Hurtfew Abbey from place to place using the power of the enchanted Darkness within which they were cursed to live. Three weeks after Mr Strange had brought the Darkness from Venice to Hurtfew Abbey, they had managed to move the house to Padua, where Mr Strange had at last been able to speak to his wife.

His conversation with her had been quite ambiguous. On the one hand, he told her of his fascinating conversations with Mr Norrell and their plans to travel to distant lands and perhaps confront magical beings. On the other, he had assured her that the two Magicians would try their best to escape from the Darkness. When they managed to do so, he would return to Arabella.

Mr Norrell was not at all keen for that to happen. Staying in the Darkness forever with the man he had loved for eight years struck him as nearly the ideal life. True, they could not be as intimate as he wished them to be. There would clearly be no mutual declaration of love. If Mr Strange was determined to return to his wife, he was surely not going to be interested in the love of an older, plainer man who was, as Mr Norrell well knew, considered quite dull and uninteresting. If the two of them were to escape from the Darkness, Mr Norrell reasoned, he at least could at last carry through on his plan for the two of them to form a partnership and go on doing magic together for the good of the nation. He would simply have to be content with having Mr Strange’s friendship.

One evening the pair were seated comfortably on chairs opposite each other in the library, discussing Naiads. The fact that the Darkness extended over part of Hurtfew Abbey’s park and also part of the river Hurt had led them to wonder if it might be possible for them to conjure up the presence of a Naiad attached to that river. She could be a powerful protectress figure who, if favorable to them, could be of considerable help. They had spent many hours researching Naiads, but had come to few conclusions. Would there even be a Naiad in the Hurt? The Greeks had been the experts on such figures, but they had assumed, quite erroneously of course, that all waters on earth were interconnected. 

Eventually the conversation on the subject waned, and the two sat thinking over the implications of what they had just discussed. At last Mr Norrell spoke the words that he had been holding back for several days now.

“Mr Strange, it is all very well for us to speculate on such matters, but we should not forget that, according to your account, you told Mrs Strange that we would find a spell to banish the Darkness and that you would return to her.”

Mr Strange frowned and stared into the fire. At last he replied, “Yes, but, uh, I did not say when. ‘One day I shall find the right spell,’ I said. That does not mean that we might not travel around a bit first, as we have discussed. Or even more than a bit.”

Mr Norrell sighed. “I think Mrs Strange might assume that we would search for that spell as soon as possible. Not that I myself have any great desire to escape the Darkness. I find our life here quite pleasant in many ways, now that we have solved the basic problems of survival. But I would not hold you here against your will. You do, after all, have an obligation to your wife.”

Mr Strange sighed in turn. “Really, I do not know why I told her that. I do wish to stay here with your and travel about, as we have discussed. I do not think that returning to Arabella would make either her or me happy. To own the truth, however, I have begun to find the lack of sunlight quite oppressive. Not to see the light of day ever again! Sometimes I am quite unable to concentrate on my reading, so much does the thought of perpetual Darkness affect me. Does not the lack of sunlight affect you in a similar way?”

Mr Norrell considered for a time. “Oh, perhaps to some extent. When you mention it, yes, I would enjoy bright sunshine coming in through the windows, lighting up my beautiful library, as it used to do. Those large windows face east—or what used to be east before the Darkness came. I remember entering the library and seeing the early morning sun coming in and being quite pleased at the sight. But I do not think about it much. I suppose I am so used to reading here by the fire, often by candle- or lamp-light, that I am not as affected by the perpetual Darkness as you are. But if you are saddened by it to such an extent, then we really must put aside all other considerations and strive to find a way to escape the Fairy’s curse.”

“I suppose so. Well, let us take heart from the fact that we are reconciled now, and even if we dispel the Darkness, we can become equal partners in magic, as you once so kindly offered.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Resolutely setting aside their discussions of Naiads and other fascinating but irrelevant magical topics, the two spent the next few days searching for any spells that might help them break a Fairy’s curse. They found a few tantalizing hints, but nothing that was clear enough or detailed enough to form the basis for a counter-spell.

At last one afternoon Mr Norrell looked up with a sigh of frustration from a book he had been reading. He had had some hopes when he first looked into it, but it had proved to be a highly unreliable work by a minor Argentine magician who clearly had cobbled together some obscure texts that were of dubious value. He noticed that Mr Strange was staring with an intent frown at another ancient volume.

“Have you found something of interest, Mr Strange?”

Startled out of his concentration, Mr Strange looked up at him and paused. “Well, I am not at all certain that this passage could be of any help. It is in some corrupt version of Latin, which I find it difficult to translate. It seems to refer to generating visions.”

Mr Norrell sniffed. “Visions? Do you mean illusions? The sort of thing I did with the ship illusions that baffled the French?”

“No, not an illusion conjured by a magician and aimed at others. I believe it refers to a magician conjuring visions for himself to have. Visions of something that might be instructive or revelatory to him.”

Mr Norrell was even more skeptical. “Not prophecies, I hope. Utter nonsense! One can do many things, but not foretell the future.”

“No, not prophecies either. I may be wrong, but I think that the visions might be some sort of way of gaining help or advice.”

Mr Strange rose and brought the book over to show his friend the passage. It was indeed a difficult text, and they puzzled over it for more than an hour. Finally Mr Norrell said, “I believe you were right in your first impression of the text, though what sort of help or advice it might give is quite unclear.”

“Might it suggest to us how to banish the Darkness?”

“Oh, I think that highly unlikely. The idea that someone could cast a spell that would reveal to him how to do any sort of magic he might wish to perform seems impossible. Magic is not that simple. Why, any one with access to such a spell could become a magician. There is no such universal key.”

“Well, might we not at least try it?”

Mr Norrell read through the passage again. “I suppose so, but I doubt it will come to anything. The text seems to me to refer to gaining advice in a specific situation, not do learning whatever magical spells one desires to have.”

Mr Strange shrugged. “Well, we might try and see if we could word the spell in such a way as to learn how to dispel the Darkness. If that does not work, we might ask more modest questions, such as how to cope with living in the Darkness.”

“I suppose so. What harm can it do? So let us try to compose a spell based on this text.”

The pair spent the afternoon translating the text as best they might and composing a spell based upon it. Their basic request was a way to escape a curse of Darkness cast by a Fairy. They looked at each other somewhat nervously and cast the spell.

At once they fell asleep, Mr Norrell in his chair at his desk and Mr Strange in his chair at the large central table of the library.

A short time later they woke up and turned to face each other. 

Mr Strange asked, “Mr Norrell, did you have any sort of vision as a result of the spell?”

Mr Norrell replied in annoyance, “Yes, a rather ordinary view of the two of us here in the library, working away at our respective projects. We sat at our desks, occasionally moved to fetch a book from a shelf, and went on about our work.”

Mr Strange sighed. “Very much the sort of thing that I saw. Us at work as usual. I suppose we must assume that, as you say, there is no magical way to discover how to work a major piece of magic like dispelling a powerful Fairy’s curse.”

“Yes, we are simply encouraged to do exactly what we were doing. So much for that spell.”

“Well, to be sure, at least as far as that purpose is concerned. But as we mentioned before, might we not try the same spell for the simpler purpose of discovering how we might best cope with the oppression that the Darkness causes us … or at least, causes me to a considerable extent and you to a lesser extent?”

“Yes, I suppose we might. That does seem the sort of question that this spell might possibly answer for us.” 

It was by this point dinner time, and a gong summoned them to their meal. Afterward they spent the evening in the library composing a simple spell based upon the Latin one, asking how they might make the Darkness more bearable to live in. They agreed to cast it the next morning, for they were quite exhausted and retired early to their respective bedrooms.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After breakfast the next morning, they sat side by side on the sopha and uttered the words of the new spell that they had composed the evening before. As before, they fell asleep very quickly.

A while later they woke up from their sound sleep, finding themselves closely entwined on the sopha, with Mr Norrell curled up against Mr Strange, his head tucked under the other Magician’s chin. Mr Strange had his arms around Mr Norrell and a little grin on his face. Their eyes widened as they realized their situation, and they quickly drew apart and, flustered by this unwonted contact, moved to two chairs opposite each other at the smaller library table. Each was blushing bright red.

There was a long silence. Finally Mr Norrell asked, “Did you have a … um, dream of any sort, Mr Strange?”

“Yes, I did, though I do not believe that it is one that could possibly relate to the spell that we had cast. And you, Mr Norrell? Did you have a dream?”

Mr Norrell breathed deeply before replying, “Yes, but as you say, it seems unrelated to the spell.”

After another long silence, Mr Strange said, “Perhaps it would be best to ignore our dreams and admit that the spell was simply a failure. The obscure language of the original may have been at fault or …”

Mr Norrell said firmly, “No, I feel that we should stifle our feelings and be quite objective before we dismiss the results of this second attempt. I propose that we write down accounts of our dreams, including every possible detail that we can remember. We will then read each other’s descriptions and discuss whether these dreams could have any thing to do with what we set out to learn.”

“I see. No doubt you are right. We should not dismiss these dreams without exploring their implications further.”

After some hesitation, they both began to write. 

A short time later Mr Norrell paused and remarked, “It is strange how vividly I remember what happened in my dream. Ordinarily I cannot remember any but the vaguest remnants of what I have dreamt.”

Mr Strange looked up and stared at him. “Yes, I too have an unusually clear recollection of what I have just dreamt.”

They took a break to replace some guttering candles and then settled down to write further. Mr Norrell finished first. Initially he pretended to work, but he mainly fidgeted about the room, straightening books that had become uneven on the shelves and removing the occasional raven feather that they had overlooked in their cleaning after the memorable day when they had cast the spell that freed Mrs Strange.

Finally Mr Strange finished as well. This time they sat at opposite sides of the big central library table, facing one another. Each had several pages in front of him. Mr Norrell’s were neatly stacked, while Mr Strange’s were strewn about and exhibited numerous blots and cross-outs. Both again went beet-red as they looked up at each other, unwilling to launch into the discussion of their visions.

Mr Strange asked casually, “Um, did you fall asleep immediately?”

“What? Oh, yes, surprisingly quickly. Did you?”

“Hah! Yes, very quickly indeed. And would you describe it as a deep sleep, or were you merely dozing?”

Mr Norrell thought for a moment. “It took me a while to fall asleep, but it was definitely not mere dozing. I find that I often begin to dream just as I have begun to drop off to sleep.” He cleared his throat.

They looked down at their respective stacks of papers and at each other, each clearly reluctant to begin his account. 

Mr Strange gave a forced smile. “I suppose … that in the interests of objectivity we should read our descriptions aloud to each other, should we not? That is what we agreed upon, is it not?”

Mr Norrell nodded and then hesitated. “Mr Strange, I … I must apologize. That is, if I am indeed to read out this text, I fear it may shock you very much. I would almost declare that we should destroy what we have just written, but I still believe that in the interests of objectivity, we must resist avoiding the truth. Nevertheless, I cannot help but believe that the results of our visions, at least as far as my own are concerned, seem, as we feared, to indicate that something went extremely wrong with our spell.”

Mr Strange took a deep breath. “I suspect you are right. My own vision was most, um, unexpected and, I’m afraid, as you say, quite shocking. It surely had nothing to do with what we requested in our spell. If you would rather not—”

Mr Norrell interrupted. “No, no … but I beg you to take what I am about to read calmly and make allowances for the fact that it was the spell—apparently gone awry—that led me to have such a dream.”

Mr Strange nodded solemnly.

Mr Norrell breathed deeply several times and began to read his account aloud.

_Mr Norrell and Mr Strange were sitting on the sopha, each reading a book. The coals in the grate glowed and gave out a heat that was most comfortable for them. Mr Norrell leaned down toward the low table before them, upon which they had earlier taken their tea, and made a note on his text, watched by Mr Strange._

Based upon the contents of his own dream, Mr Strange had expected something rather more interesting than this, and he stretched out his legs under the table and crossed them, frowning as he became increasingly worried that Mr Norrell would be very shocked indeed when it came to his turn to read his account.

Mr Norrell hesitated, removing his glasses and holding them up to the nearest lamp. He pulled out his handkerchief and proceeded to polish each lens quite thoroughly before putting the glasses on again. He glanced nervously at Mr Strange, cleared his throat and resumed.

_As Mr Norrell returned to his reading, he noticed that Mr Strange had picked up a scrap of paper and inserted it into the gutter of his book as a bookmark. He closed the book and put it on the side table at the far end of the sopha from Mr Norrell. He then grasped Mr Norrell’s book and carefully pulled it out of his hands. He put another scrap of paper in its gutter and closed it, putting it atop his own book on the end table._

At this point Mr Strange slumped slightly down in his chair and stifled a yawn.

Mr Norrell did not notice this but gulped and forged ahead. 

_Turning back, Mr Strange slipped h-his arms around Mr Norrell’s waist … initially kissing him gently on the cheek and then on the neck and finally … on the lips._

Mr Strange sat suddenly upright during this and stared in surprise at Mr Norrell, who resolutely avoided raising his eyes, merely continuing his reading.

 _Mr Norrell, though startled, responded by putting his arms around Mr Strange’s waist and allowing the kisses to proceed. They softly repeated such kisses for several minutes, though eventually their mouths were …_ my apologies, Mr Strange _… increasingly open and their tongues more actively participating. Mr Norrell raised his arms and ran his fingers gently through Mr Strange’s curly hair, and Mr Strange undid Mr Norrell’s cravat and kissed his neck softly. Gradually they unbuttoned each other’s vests and shirts and slipped their hands inside to touch each other’s torsos. They uttered gentle moans and continued to kiss and stroke each other in a similar fashion for quite some time._

Mr Norrell looked up from the page, and even by candlelight Mr Strange could see that his face was pinker than usual. 

Mr Strange had initially been amused that the other magician referred to himself as “Mr Norrell” in telling this rather personal story. He was also touched, however, and eventually somewhat aroused by this description, though as usual, he thought, his teacher displayed no flair for composing an interesting account. He said, “I realize that you are probably embarrassed, sir, but please, go on. I presume that we progressed to more passionate caresses and …” He raised his eyebrows inquiringly, wondering how Mr Norrell would manage to get through the more lurid part of the scene he was describing.

“Oh, no, Mr Strange! Nothing so untoward. We simply continued our kisses and caresses. I do not know for how long, since it is usually difficult to judge the passage of time in a dream. I-I must apologize for having conjured up a scene in which you, a married man, would make such advances to a person other than your wife—and a man rather than a woman. Still, we agreed that we would strive for the utmost accuracy, and that is exactly what I saw and heard in my dream. I cannot imagine how I came to have such a dream, especially when it was so very different from what I had asked for in the spell. I—ˮ

Mr Strange had been distinctly emboldened by Mr Norrell’s account. To be sure, his own “dream” had been far more detailed and explicit, but at least Mr Norrell had introduced the notion of physical pleasure. 

He interrupted, saying, “Fear not, sir! You are not alone in having such a dream. I, too, witnessed an intimate scene between the two of us.”

Mr Norrell looked at him steadily for the first time since he had begun reading. A trace of pleasure seemed about to appear on his face, for he nearly smiled—though he quickly rearranged his features into a neutral expression. He said in tones of mild interest. “Oh … really? Um, well, perhaps you should go ahead and read your account to me before we further discuss mine.”

“That would make the most sense, yes.” Mr Strange hesitated. “I fear mine is even more intimate and detailed. It, um, extends to … uh …” he seemed to search for a term, a worried little frown on his face.

Mr Norrell looked puzzled and finally said, “I wonder if ‘amorous congress’ might describe what you, or, um, _we_ , I suppose, experienced in your dream.”

Mr Strange looked somewhat relieved. “Yes, exactly. I cannot help but feel, however, that my description of it is likely to upset you. Perhaps I should take a few moments to rewrite my text in a more cursory fashion, leaving out certain details—” 

“No, Mr Strange! I have encountered a great many odd and even disturbing texts in my career as a magician, and I feel that it is part of the qualifications for our profession that we be able to examine such things calmly and rationally.”

Mr Strange stared at him for a moment. “Under ordinary circumstances I would agree with you, but few of the texts you have encountered can have personally involved you and me engaged in such activities.”

Mr Norrell did not reply but stared at him expectantly and a little sternly.

Mr Strange sighed and nodded. He reluctantly picked up the sheet on top of his messy stack, stared at it in confusion, shuffled through the pages, and eventually found the beginning. Taking a deep breath, he commenced.

_I walked into the library and saw Mr Norrell sitting on the sopha reading a book. Aroused beyond measure at the sight, I quickly moved to sit beside him and hugged him around the waist. My initial gentle kisses startled Mr Norrell, inexperienced as he was, but he soon responded by putting his arms around my waist and pressing his mouth eagerly against mine. Soon our tongues were ravenously entwining, and Mr Norrell uttered desperate moans as he ran his fingers through my hair. I tore off his cravat and sucked on his neck eagerly. We plucked frantically at each other’s vests and shirts, ripping them off and tossing them aside. Our hands wandered avidly over each other’s torsos. We uttered hoarse, passionate groans and tugged at the fastenings of each other’s breeches. I lowered the flap of his and reached down inside his smallclothes to grasp—_

At this point Mr Norrell uttered a involuntary little squeak, as if Mr Strange actually had put his hand down inside his smallclothes, though it was not nearly as rapturous a squeak as Mr Strange would have hoped to elicit in that particular situation. Mr Strange smiled wanly at him. Mr Norrell controlled himself and sat breathing deeply through his nose. He nodded for Mr Strange to go on.

Mr Strange continued determinedly.

_I saw that his member was completely rampant, as was mine, and I knelt before him, sucking his hardness deep into my mouth and bobbing up and down upon it, sucking as hard as I could. His hands clenched in my hair, and he uttered shrill pleas with each eager stroke of my mouth. I paused and withdrew to wet my long middle finger in my mouth, eliciting a moan of frustrated disappointment from Mr Norrell. I resumed sucking on his throbbing member as I slowly insinuated my finger into his tight entrance. He squirmed slightly in his initial discomfort but soon keened in surprised rapture as my finger stroked his sensitive spot within. Sucking and stroking eagerly, I soon had the pleasure of tasting his hot seed gushing into my mouth as he thrashed in his bliss._

_As soon as he had recovered from his delight, I guided him to perform the same actions for me, and soon I achieved my own bliss. I withdrew my cock from his mouth and frigged myself, spraying my seed over his face and chest. Afterward I cleaned us both and we lay back to enjoy the blissful effects of our mutual pleasure._

_Within minutes, however, we looked at each other with renewed desire. My own cock was rampant once more, and I saw that he was in a state of utmost desire. I urged him to rise and assume a position upon his hands and knees, facing away from me as I knelt between his spread legs. I grasped and squeezed his buttocks eagerly, spreading them to reveal the puckered little entrance that I had so far explored only with my finger. I now gasped at the thought of burying my throbbing cock deep within him._

Mr Strange paused at this point and looked up at Mr Norrell. The other magician had his fingers enlaced and his hands clenched against each other until the knuckles turned white. His eyes were slightly wide, and he seemed curiously appalled and intrigued at the same time. He gulped and nodded, saying, “Go on, Mr Strange.”

Mr Strange took a deep breath and continued.

 _“I stroked and squeezed his parted buttocks. Finally I slid my cock’s tip inside him. His tight channel clutched at my shaft, and I moaned in delight. I thrust gradually inward until he gave a great gasp of pleasure. I continued to, um, thrust deeper into him as we both uttered cries of mounting excitement._

He paused, his eyes quickly scanning two or three lines of text and then went on, _With one final—_

“Mr Strange!”

“Yes?”

“You have obviously omitted a part of your account. However, um, licentious the content of that passage might be, we should face up to it, for possibly it offers evidence as to the nature of the dreams.”

Mr Strange looked most uncomfortable, but he resumed:

_… cries of mounting excitement. At last Mr Norrell, who had been emitting loud moans and plaintive whimpers, gasped out, ‘Fuck me, Mr Strange! Fuck me fast and hard!’ Thereupon I grasped his rigid cock and after a final series of rapid thrusts inside him, I heard him groan repeatedly in his release and saw a copious spray of his seed fall upon the sheets. At that I reached my own climax and with a hoarse shout spent deep within him, more forcibly and lengthily than I had ever done so before._

He paused and there was a silence that seemed much longer than it really was. Mr Strange looked at Mr Norrell apologetically. “Um, you did direct me to read every detail, and that is, unfortunately, what you cried out to me … in my dream.”

Mr Norrell was looking somewhat white for a change. He pulled himself together and replied, “Do not apologize, Mr Strange. You were quite right to be objective and truthful in your report.” He thought briefly. “I cannot imagine myself being so uncontrolled as to utter the verb that you mentioned in your quotation from me. I know of it, of course, but I do not believe that I have ever spoken it.”

Mr Strange quickly nodded, “I can well imagine, sir. By the by, that word is often used as a noun, as in ‘a good, hard fuck.’”

Mr Norrell shifted in his chair. “Thank you, I am glad, I suppose, to know it, even though I probably will never utilize it as a noun either.” He paused and shook his head. “And I cannot believe that I could ever bring myself to call you by your given name, Mr Strange.”

“Oh, perhaps in that most intimate of circumstances you might feel it warranted.”

Mr Norrell looked doubtfully at Mr Strange before saying, “But pray, return to your reading, please, for I see that there is another page to go.”

Mr Strange replied, “Yes, just a short one.” He read: 

_Mr Norrell and I lay down upon the sheets and put our arms around each other. Mr Norrell referred in some slight irritation to the sticky, tangled condition of the sheets as a result of our final release, but he left off as we commenced kissing quietly. We spoke at length of our utter satisfaction and of our desire to further explore such pleasures together as soon as our desire returned. Eventually we drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms._

Mr Strange put down the final page and said with some relief, “That is the end of my account, sir.”

There was a short silence before Mr Norrell remarked, “I was somewhat surprised at how easily you were able to, uh, penetrate my … me. I had the impression that it was quite a difficult, lengthy process, often painful.”

“True, true. But this was a dream, and I suppose such little problems were smoothed over. I was also amazed to think back over how quickly we both were so aroused and rampant after such an intense finish to the oral portion of our amorous congress. But again, I suppose the dream made it possible.” He hesitated. “The progression of events may possibly have been influenced by some, uh, literature that I read during my bachelor days.”

Mr Norrell cleared his throat again and returned the conversation to the central issues at hand. “I note that we have been calling our experiences ‘dreams,’ but the question remains as to how they relate to our vision-summoning spell. Were they visions or merely dreams? I find it highly unlikely that the two of us would fall asleep so rapidly after conjuring the visions and then simply happen to dream such similar dreams at the same time. That is, the dreams were certainly different in their depictions of the intimate acts we have recorded, but nevertheless the subject matter might be considered very generally similar in nature.”

“It seems very unlikely indeed, sir. Might I ask, have you ever had that sort of romantic dream before?”

Mr Norrell dithered briefly. “Dreams of sharing caresses with gentlemen, you mean?”

“Well, perhaps, but more specifically, with me.”

“Oh!” Mr Norrell licked his lips and looked about the room.

Mr Strange pressed his lips together to stifle a smile and said, “Now, now, Mr Norrell, as you say, we must be completely objective and truthful if we are to reason out the nature of what we have experienced.”

“Indeed. To own the truth, I have had such dreams. Most of them were more in the nature of day-dreams, but occasionally they came to me in my sleep as well.”

Mr Strange’s eyebrows went up. “It sounds as though you experienced such dreams fairly often.”

Mr Norrell looked at him uncertainly for a moment and then burst out, “Yes! Ever since you first did your first wonderful magic for me, Mr Strange.” He paused as if rather regretting he had been so candid, and resumed, “ Perhaps that means that this latest instance is simply a dream and no vision at all.”

“Well, I doubt that. I have to say, I have never dreamed about you in any such fashion. Oh, I speculated idly about your intimate physical desires back in my days as your pupil, but those were definitely always waking thoughts. So the fact that this was the first ‘dream’ of this sort I have ever had, added to the fact that it would be an incredible coincidence that we should both dream in this fashion at the same time immediately after casting a spell, leads me to conclude that these mental images were indeed the visions that we conjured.”

Mr Norrell shook his head doubtfully. He stood up. “Let us sit upon the sopha and have a glass of Madeira-wine and discuss the implications.”

They poured stiff glasses of the wine and sat down.

Mr Strange sighed. “These dreams seem not to be dreams, and yet they also seem unrelated in any way to the purpose of the spell.”

“No. There was still no hint of how we might escape the Darkness or of how we might find a way to make our lives here more practical. Perhaps we simply wrote the spell unclearly. I have been doing magic long enough that I seldom make mistakes, but no magician should ever conclude that he is infallible.”

“So we should work further and rewrite the spell, specifying what we wish to know. How to make our existence within the Darkness more pleasant until we can find a way to escape it.”

Suddenly they both stared at each other with widened eyes. 

Mr Strange finally broke the silence. “But we were shown one such way in … in our dreams … or as I believe I can now quite confidently call them, visions. It makes sense, does it not? If we were to share such intimate pleasures, the Darkness would become a far more--"

Mr Norrell broke in, “But you are a married man, Mr Strange, and surely that means you would not welcome such relations with some one else and certainly not with another man!”

“Mr Norrell, you and I have speculated that we are trapped together in the Darkness by John Uskglass for a Purpose. To be blunt, if indeed we are right in thinking that he now controls the Darkness and wishes us to stay here to our own and others’ benefit—well, then he apparently believes that we would be happier, much happier, were we having … um …”

Mr Norrell stared down at the carpet. “Amorous congress.”

“Exactly.”

“Full, complete amorous congress.”

“Well, according to my vision, yes, very full, very complete, very intense—and very joyous—amorous congress,” Mr Strange concluded with a flourish and a grin, which faded as he saw Mr Norrell’s doubtful face. “Well, not complete, um, amorous congress right away, necessarily, but some degree of physical intimacy that might eventually lead up to it—or not, as you wish,” he added hastily. “If I am right, the Darkness might become a paradise of delightful intimacy. I must admit, I have had some experience in loving other men. That was during my war service, when I was away from Arabella for years on end.”

“So … so you do not find the idea unnatural?”

“No. In fact, the idea of actually doing what we merely saw in our mind’s eye during our visions is quite attractive. I have to admit that I found your description of your vision … somewhat arousing, despite the rather gentle and, um, preliminary nature of our affectionate exchanges therein. As to my own vision, well, that was, uh, even more so. Arousing, that is.”

A smile slowly spread across Mr Norrell’s face, and he said quietly, “Oh, Mr Strange!”

They were silent for a time, their eyes cast down in a sudden shyness brought on by these revelations.

Finally Mr Strange said, “Does your apparent pleasure at my admission suggest that we both wish to act out what happened in our respective visions?” 

Mr Norrell hesitated only briefly before responding, “I should very much like to act out my own vision, yes.”

“Lengthy soft kissing and gentle caressing, you mean.”

Mr Norrell sighed happily. “Exactly. We might consider that our two visions were different versions of the same possibility. A gentle, amorous exchange on the one hand, or a more, um, vigorous one on the other.”

“Well, the gentle one you described would be lovely, but at the same time, I think it would grow to be most frustrating. I should want you too much not to go on to more intimate exchanges. I think we might consider instead that the two visions are not different versions of intimacy but two stages of the same interaction. Your vision might serve as the beginning of our amorous congress, and mine might be the continuation of it through to the full, very satisfying conclusion.”

Mr Norrell considered this. “Poss … ibly,” he finally said.

“Good! Well, with that proviso, that my vision is at least possibly a continuation, let us try yours to begin with.”

Mr Norrell stared at him with growing wonder. “You truly want me? Not just in your vision, that is, but in reality?”

“Most definitely!”

Mr Norrell felt quite awestricken by Mr Strange’s revelation, but still he hesitated. “Well, I do not know whether I could ... Such, um, lascivious, immodest actions! And you mentioned our taking off each other’s clothing in what seemed a rather violent fashion. I should think that I would be quite cold under such circumstances … as you know, I am subject to feeling the cold, which would not be conducive to amorous pleasure. Besides, I do not know how to sew buttons back on clothing.”

“Well, in my vision, to be sure, we were on top of the bed, without any covers. But I suppose that was simply so that in my mind I could see our figures and activities clearly. Much of what we did could equally be done under as many sheets and blankets as you wish. And undoubtedly we could take more care in removing each other’s clothing. I think the violence of that activity was probably for dramatic effect. In fact, a slow mutual disrobing can be quite tantalizing … in my opinion, at any rate.”

“Oh, I see! But … you described entering me from … from behind so easily, and yet I cannot imagine that you could insert such a large member as I suspect you possess into me without my feeling considerable pain.”

“True, true, in the dream there was no need to prepare you. I just slipped in readily, as you say. In reality, though, I would be very careful to, um, loosen the relevant orifice and to lubricate it with salve so that I should be able to enter you without much pain at all. I … I have done it before. Believe me, I wish to consider your comfort at every stage and to give you nothing but joy.”

“I see … well …” Mr Norrell had nearly run out of objections. “Oh, but it is so undignified and …” 

“And so pleasurable, I assure you. No one will be watching us. We need not feel embarrassed.”

“I suppose not. Do you really think, though, that we could, practically speaking, perform two acts of amorous congress in such a short time, Mr Strange?”

Mr Strange chuckled. “I seriously doubt it. Again, I think that part was for dramatic effect—or simply a very condensed version of what would in reality take distinctly longer. But … I fear that your continued objections indicate that you do not wish even to try such things with me.” He made little attempt to conceal his disappointment.

Mr Norrell closed his eyes and sighed a shuddering sigh before opening them again. “Oh, Mr Strange! I must confess to being somewhat trepidatious about something that I have never attempted before. And yet … I have wanted to experience intimate acts with you for so long! I have actually dreamed of it, though not as clearly as in our recent visions. I frankly had little idea of how men actually went about these highly intimate acts. But if you would do that for me, I … well, I don’t think that I could bring myself to say what you reported that I cried out in your dream … but I would want you to do what you reported I asked you to.” He gulped.

Mr Strange smiled and nodded and reached to take Mr Norrell’s empty wine-glass from his hand. He leaned forward and put both empty glasses on the table and then sat up and grinned at Mr Norrell. “Rather as I put aside our two books in your vision, is it not? Now, let us try the subsequent actions.”


	2. Enacting the visions

Still seated upon the sopha and fully dressed, Mr Strange and Mr Norrell put their hands on each other’s shoulders. With little smiles of anticipation, they leaned forward, and their lips met. Their mouths moved delicately against each other, as Mr Norrell had described in his record of his vision. Mr Strange began by sucking on Mr Norrell’s lips, each in turn. Mr Norrell soon took the hint and began to suck in the same fashion upon Mr Strange’s lips. 

Mr Strange sought to remain restrained in his kissing, though the unaccustomed contact was exciting him enormously. He thought of how this might be Mr Norrell’s first romantic kiss, and the tentative but eager movements of Mr Norrell’s mouth against his own made him think of his own early kisses and their innocent joy. Having Mr Norrell in his arms was delightful. He was also unavoidably reminded of his wedding night, when he had kissed Arabella in a similarly restrained fashion. Not that they had avoided kissing during their engagement, but he still had not wanted to proceed too quickly in deflowering Ara—he thrust that thought resolutely from his mind and concentrated on proceeding slowly with his current partner. Their pleasant exchanges continued for quite some time. 

At last Mr Norrell pulled back slightly to look adoringly into his eyes. “Oh, Mr Strange … you are giving me all the joy that I have dreamed of for so long!”

Mr Strange breathed deeply for a moment. “Gilbert,” he whispered, and resumed kissing Mr Norrell. Now their mouths gradually opened to each other. Mr Strange delicately slid his tongue into Mr Norrell’s mouth, exploring it and delighting in the response he received, welcoming and eager. Eventually Mr Norrell spontaneously began to suck on his tongue. Mr Strange teased with his tongue and then withdrew, inviting Mr Norrell to explore his mouth in turn. At first Mr Norrell seemed confused, but he soon pressed his mouth harder against Mr Strange’s, delving adventurously into it and exciting Mr Strange even more.

Mr Norrell’s hands moved up, and he hesitatingly pushed his fingers into the edges of Mr Strange’s hair. A low moan that Mr Strange uttered into his mouth encouraged him, and he ran his fingers delightedly through the beautiful curls that he had so long admired. 

In response, Mr Strange pulled at Mr Norrell’s cravat until he had loosened it sufficiently to kiss his neck softly. Soon his tongue was running over the warm skin, and Mr Norrell sighed and curled his fingers to grasp Mr Strange’s hair gently and hold his head against himself, revelling in the gentle caresses of the other Magician’s mouth.

Mr Strange’s mounting excitement led him to unbutton the top of Mr Norrell’s jacket, and when the other man did not object, he ventured to undo the second as well and then the top buttons of his vest. He slipped his hand inside and felt across the shirt within until he detected the tiny swell of Mr Norrell’s nipple. Scratching it cautiously through the cloth, he was rewarded with a slight whimper, and Mr Norrell squirmed against him. Thus encouraged, Mr Strange undid the rest of the buttons quickly but carefully and removed Mr Norrell’s jacket.

“Your buttons have so far remained intact, sir,” he pointed out.

“Thank you, Mr Strange,” Mr Norrell gasped. Realizing that he had not kept up with these amorous activities, he reached up and sought to unbutton Mr Strange’s jacket. He managed the first one, but Mr Strange soon lost patience and quickly sat up to remove his own jacket, grinning down at Mr Norrell as he tossed it aside. Mr Strange moved against him once more, kissing him with increasing passion as Mr Norrell hugged him more and more tightly. After a few minutes, Mr Norrell shifted anxiously beneath Mr Strange and pulled his mouth free, panting with excitement.

Mr Strange smiled and said, “Gilbert, do you want something more?”

Mr Norrell looked at him uncertainly, gasping, and said reluctantly, “Yes, you were right … I find that I do indeed need more than just …”

“Just kissing and caressing? Should we go up to your bedroom and perhaps undress further and get under the covers?”

Mr Norrell was so aroused that he hesitated only briefly before nodding.”

The two hurried upstairs to Mr Norrell’s bedroom. There Mr Norrell seemed to lose his confidence and stared at the large bed before lowering his gaze.

Mr Strange noticed this and said, “Should we, um, take off our shoes and lie down?”

Mr Norrell nodded, and they reclined, still largely dressed, on top of the bed. Their activities on the sopha were repeated, as they clung and kissed, again gradually opening to each other. In a much shorter time than before, Mr Norrell squirmed against Mr Strange. Mr Strange brushed his fingers delicately over the front of Mr Norrell’s breeches and detected a firmness within that encouraged him. Mr Norrell uttered a little squawk, and Mr Strange undid the remaining buttons of his vest in a leisurely fashion. Again, not a button parted from its place. 

Mr Strange’s mouth slid down to Mr Norrell’s neck, kissing and tonguing it as he unfastened the shirt, spread it wide, and again ran his fingers over the sensitive nipples through Mr Norrell’s smallclothes. He teased them and stretched to flick his tongue into Mr Norrell’s ear. The result was a series of shrill whinnying sounds from Mr Norrell, who murmured, “Oh, Mr Strange!”

Despite being aroused more than he had been during his vision, Mr Norrell strove to pay attention and imitate what Mr Strange was doing. He fumbled at Mr Strange’s buttons, trying to open his vest, but his fingers, as usual in such endeavours, did not cooperate, and he only managed to open two. Mr Strange remained far more clothed than he was. Frustrated, Mr Norrell began to see more sense in the notion of ripping clothes frantically from one’s partner. He refrained from doing so, however, as he suspected that Mr Strange did not know how to sew buttons on clothing either.

Mr Norrell’s ineffectual attempts did not seem to bother Mr Strange, who removed Mr Norrell’s shirt, all the while teasing him to distraction with his lips and tongue. Mr Strange raised Mr Norrell slightly and pulled his smallclothes off until his partner was naked from the waist up. His wig had become dislodged and was lying on the pillow beside his head. At once Mr Strange began enthusiastically to lick, suck, and stroke every part of that upper naked portion of Mr Norrell until the latter was moaning and writhing with joy. 

Through his haze of arousal, Mr Norrell tried to remember what Mr Strange had described as happening next in his vision. “I believe … my breeches buttons were next, Mr Strange.”

Mr Strange chuckled in surprise that Mr Norrell would become so bold as to suggest how they should proceed. He undid those buttons and slipped his hand inside, hoping to make Mr Norrell squeak a little more enthusiastically than he had upon listening to Mr Strange’s account of grasping his member. 

He found Mr Norrell’s cock was nearly as rampant as it had been in his vision. Determined to make it absolutely as much so, he stroked up the length of it with fluttering, teasing fingers. The result was not a squeak at all, but a long hoarse “Ohhhhhh!” that was just as good, if not better.

“Oh, Mr Strange, do that again, please!”

“Gladly.” He stroked a few more times, watching as Mr Norrell closed his eyes, his face contorted with bliss. Too eager to wait any longer, he jerked Mr Norrell’s breeches down, drew his erection out of his smallclothes, and sucked it into his mouth. He eagerly drew up and then sank down on it, listening to Mr Norrell’s passionate moans. 

Suddenly he remembered what else had happened in his vision and withdrew for a moment to moisten his middle finger with his tongue. He smiled as Mr Norrell whined in frustrated disappointment before Mr Strange resumed sucking his cock as he inserted his finger into his lover’s virgin entrance. Mr Norrell jerked in startlement.

He said tensely, “Mr Strange, that feels quite odd.”

Mr Strange paused without withdrawing “Give me a little while, Gilbert, and I hope it will feel better. I’m not hurting you, I trust.”

Mr Norrell hastened to reply, “Oh, no. It doesn’t feel particularly bad, just … odd. If it arouses you, and I assume it must, you may continue. I am quite happy to give you pleasure, no matter how—oh, my Good God!” Quickly losing the capacity for speech, he uttered inarticulate moans and gurgles.

Thus encouraged, Mr Strange curled his finger and rubbed repeatedly along the front of Mr Norrell’s passage as he sucked determinedly at his rigid cock. Between his avid mouth and skillful finger, Mr Strange soon brought Mr Norrell to a very noisy climax, which Mr Strange prolonged as much as he could. He swallowed his lover’s seed and rose to kneel and look down upon him, licking his lips.

Had Mr Strange been in any doubt as to whether Mr Norrell had enjoyed their first act of amorous congress—and Mr Strange certainly was not—Mr Norrell’s dazed smile up at him would have convinced him that it was the case. 

After a minute or so of satiated panting, Mr Norrell pushed himself into a sitting position and looked down at the distinct bulge in the front of Mr Strange’s breeches. He reached out tentatively and touched it, rubbing gently. Mr Strange hummed softly and watched as Mr Norrell explored him. Mr Norrell then sought to unbutton the placket of his breeches, and with a little help he was able to turn it down. Imitating what Mr Strange had done, he eagerly reached inside the smallclothes, bringing out Mr Strange’s erection.

Mr Norrell positively grinned. “Oh! It’s so large, Mr Strange.”

Mr Strange grinned in return and gently pinched his cheek.

“Why did you do that, Mr Strange?”

“Oh, it’s just a gesture of affection. You have the most delightfully round, pinchable cheeks.”

“I see. Well, thank you, Mr Strange. And now … how should I …”

Mr Strange took his arm and guided him as they changed places. “Don’t feel you need to put it in your mouth, Gilbert. Just … use your lips and tongue and hand in ways that you would enjoy and that you imagine might please me.”

Thus instructed, Mr Norrell proceeded to lick and kiss and stroke Mr Strange’s cock gently, occasionally pulling back slightly to gaze at it in admiration. Mr Strange had to instruct him a few times to be a little more firm and enthusiastic in his caresses, but Mr Norrell learned quite quickly what pleased both of them. He even tried putting the large tip in his mouth and sucking. This excited Mr Strange considerably, and eventually he felt his climax rising. 

The recollection flashed through his mind that in his description of his vision, he had rather cavalierly sprayed his seed over Mr Norrell’s face and chest. That seemed exceedingly presumptuous, for the first time, at least, and possibly for any other time as well. He pulled his cock out of Mr Norrell’s mouth just as the first spurt of his seed entered it. He pointed it upward as additional spurts of diminishing strength leapt upward and fell back upon his own abdomen—although, given his frantic jerking of his erection, some of the drops struck the sheet to either side of him as well.

Mr Norrell reacted in surprise, not having remembered that Mr Strange’s vision had described his withdrawing at this crucial moment. He swallowed the initial results of Mr Strange’s climax and watched in fascination as Mr Strange frigged his way through the rest of his climax and ended up spattered with his own seed. Only then did he recall that in the vision he himself had ended up with Mr Strange’s seed all over his face and chest. He rather felt that delaying that experience for another time was all for the best. Without such a distraction, his close view of Mr Strange’s climax had been most rewarding.

Mr Strange’s body relaxed back into the pillow. He was quite glad to have avoided spraying Mr Norrell with his seed—especially since, once he was settled, Mr Norrell slid slightly upward and carefully licked the drops of seed from his skin. Mr Strange watched this, transfixed, through the entire process and then pulled Mr Norrell up to lie beside him. They pulled the sheet and blankets up over themselves.

After a short, contented silence, Mr Strange said, “You enjoyed doing that, didn’t you?”

“Yes! Your … cock is so beautiful, I loved touching it … and I, um, brought you to … uh, a gratifying ending,” he added with a touch of pride.

Mr Strange pulled him closer. “You did very well for your first time. Very well indeed. But I hardly expected you to, um, clean me the way you did.”

Mr Norrell shrugged. “Well, you swallowed my … mine, and I thought that was the way one is supposed to dispose of the … the results.”

“Not necessarily, though it is common enough. It was distinctly more pleasant and interesting than your just using a handkerchief. And you … you didn’t mind the taste?”

“Not really. It wasn’t particularly pleasant, but you seemed to enjoy watching that part of it. Am I right?”

“Oh, yes! I didn’t imagine that you would do such a wanton thing, given how reluctant you were even to try amorous congress.”

“Oh, dear, was that wanton? I do apologize, Mr Strange!”

Mr Strange chuckled. “No need, no need. It was most arousing—or it would have been, had I not just spent. But pleasant, definitely!”

Mr Norrell blushed. “Well, if you enjoyed it, then it was worth it!”

Mr Strange smiled fondly. “Gilbert, I begin to realize that you are as eager and considerate a lover as one could possibly wish for.”

Mr Norrell beamed with pleasure. “If not the most skilled one.”

“Oh, I am confident that you will learn very quickly. And perhaps we can find some other wanton things that you might enjoy doing.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Mr Norrell looked rather taken aback at this notion, but before he could say anything, the five-minute-warning gong for lunch sounded dimly from downstairs. The pair would have enjoyed lingering in bed and cuddling, but they rose hurriedly, washed and resumed their clothing. They went down to lunch, which they consumed while glancing at each other with elated little grins.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++==

After the two magicians finished their lunch, they walked back to the library. Once inside, they embraced and exchanged a kiss that was intended to be merely affectionate. It deepened, however, as Mr Norrell’s tongue sought and found entrance to Mr Strange’s mouth. Soon they were pressed closely together, with Mr Norrell rubbing the front of his breeches against Mr Strange.

At last Mr Strange broke free and looked quizzically at Mr Norrell. “Gilbert, do you … are you hinting that you, um, want to go back to bed?”

Mr Norrell looked at him anxiously and shifted his feet as he nodded. “Could we, Mr Strange?” 

Mr Strange chuckled. “Well, admittedly, more than just a few minutes have elapsed since we finished our first act of amorous congress, but still, it has been a relatively short time … Are you sure you are ready to …” 

Mr Norrell blushed. “Well, it’s just that … the first part of your vision turned into such a pleasant reality that … I would not mind going on to the second part.”

Mr Strange glanced down and saw from the front of Mr Norrell’s breeches that he did indeed want to. He gave a startled little guffaw and replied, “I begin to realize that under that respectable exterior you are a randy fellow indeed! Not that I am objecting, mind you.”

“Well, you are so very provokingly beautiful and such a skilled lover that it is hard for me to avoid thinking of such a thing. Especially because you … that is, you have …” He trailed off, looking down at the front of Mr Strange’s breeches, which already were beginning to show signs of reviving interest on his part as well.

Mr Strange feigned incomprehension. “Yes, Gilbert? What might you be trying to say?”

“Well, I … oh, Mr Strange, you have such a beautiful … and large, um, member, and after what happened when you used your finger on me … well, I wish to know what such a thing—a larger thing—would feel like inside me.” 

“Well, let us go, then!’

As they walked upstairs, Mr Strange studied his companion. “And just how old are you, Gilbert?”

Ordinarily Mr Norrell would have been somewhat distressed to receive this question, especially when posed by his beloved Mr Strange, but he was so looking forward to their renewed amorous activities that he answered without thinking, “Fifty-two.”

“Well, you are quite eager for a man of your mature years! Not that you are old, mind you, and I have certainly known much older men still as libidinous as in their youths. I am rather surprised, but very pleasantly so!”

They reached the bedroom, and Mr Norrell exhibited no uncertainty or reluctance this time. The two undressed quickly, though still not so quickly as to scatter any buttons or rip any seams. 

They climbed onto the bed, and Mr Strange arranged Mr Norrell on his stomach with a cushion under his hips. He could not entirely cover his partner with blankets, but he draped a shawl over his back. Then he placed his fingertips at either side of Mr Norrell’s cleft and spread his buttocks so that he could examine his most private area.

“Well, you have a delightful arsehole. Be reassured that I shall treat it with the upmost caution. Please, do not feel nervous.”

Mr Norrell, however, clearly was somewhat nervous. “I assume you have done this before, haven’t you?”

Mr Strange took a generous dollops of salve onto his fingers and gently caressed the little puckered opening as he replied, “Oh, yes, in the Peninsula some of the officers and I exchanged pleasure of this sort many times. There was little else to do, apart from telling anecdotes and tales, which tended to become a bit tiresome after a while.”

He carefully spread the salve along Mr Norrell’s cleft and gently massaged the area.

Mr Norrell did not reply, having become very silent and still as he concentrated on the lovely sensations that Mr Strange’s fingers were affording him. His breathing became noticeably deeper.

Mr Strange smiled at this and pressed and rubbed at Mr Norrell’s entrance with one fingertip, gradually working it slightly inside. Soon Mr Norrell went from silent concentration to rather noisy whining and thrashing. Mr Strange continued circling and rubbing for a long time. As Mr Norrell had recently gained amorous release, Mr Strange felt no need to hold back, and he kept nudging the small pleasure gland with nearly every forward movement of one and eventually two fingers. Mr Norrell seemed content for this sort of intense sensation to continue indefinitely, but after several minutes Mr Strange deemed he had done all that he could to make Mr Norrell’s arsehole ready to receive even his large member and that Mr Norrell was by now eager for such a consummation. He coated his cock thoroughly with ointment and slowly pushed inside, progressing in tiny increments and stroking Mr Norrell’s buttocks with a soothing, feathery touch.

“Try to relax, Gilbert. Do not tense up. That’s right.”

He began to fuck Mr Norrell slowly. The latter had paused and moaned as he went inside, but by now was whimpering with joy.

Mr Strange savoured the hot, tight grip on his cock as he slid it in and out, seeking to delay their mutual pleasure and finding a pace that could keep them drifting in bliss as long as possible.

At last Mr Norrell became desperate for the ecstasy toward which he was building to wash over him. With an effort he said tentatively, “F-fuck me, Mr Strange … oh, I just can’t!” He gasped and began to keen shrilly instead.

Mr Strange was panting hard, but he managed to say, “I … quite understand.” Just hearing as much as Mr Norrell had managed to say was quite exhilarating. He sped up immediately, sinking further inside and reveling in the incredibly tight heat that clutched at him. 

By now Mr Norrell was thrashing and groaning loudly. Mr Strange rose pulled on his hips until the man was on his hands and knees, keening as Mr Strange pumped into him. At last Mr Strange reached down and stroked Mr Norrell’s member a few times, and the other magician grew abruptly silent, his face twisted in utmost bliss as he gasped and his seed spurted out across the sheet, scattering as Mr Strange jerked hard at his cock.

Mr Norrell’s tight channel clutched rhythmically at Mr Strange’s shaft and drove him into his own ecstasy, thrusting spasmodically a few last times as he spurted deep inside his lover.

They remained nearly still, panting and recovering slowly.

At last Mr Strange withdrew, reaching for a handkerchief and cleaning them both. He tried to wipe the drops of seed that both of them had left on the sheet during their recent activities, but he merely ended up smearing them around. Carefully he helped Norrell to settle down onto the bed, joined him there, and pulled the blankets up over them.

Mr Norrell shifted uncomfortably. “The sheets are quite wet and sticky, Mr Strange.”

“I am afraid that one handkerchief cannot entirely remove the, um, results of our pleasure, Gilbert.”

“No, I suppose not, but in future I hope we can find a way to avoid having to lie in—”

Mr Strange silenced him with a tender kiss that lingered until they were both settled side by side, holding hands, and Mr Norrell had nearly forgotten the stickiness of the sheet beneath them.

At that point Mr Norrell remarked, “I must admit, you must have learned how to do that very well in the Peninsula. It did not hurt much, and only at the beginning. Once you really got started it became quite most extraordinarily enjoyable.”

Mr Strange kissed his forehead. “I am delighted to have pleased you, my dear Gilbert.”

Mr Norrell lay thoughtfully for a while. “The Peninsula seems to have been a place of considerable temptations. What with having … amorous congress so often and getting drunk and moving churches about, you seem to have been led astray quite a bit.”

Mr Strange chuckled. “I cannot say that I was being led astray, exactly. True, I was hesitant to exchange pleasures with the others at first, never having been with a man before. But I was away from Belle for years, and after I finally tried it, I was quite willing to go on with such relations. As to the drinking … I have told you that I was drinking too much as a student and during my courtship of Belle. The conditions of war are such that any sort of relief is welcome, and I did not need any leading astray to go off drinking for days with the others. I felt considerably less need to seek such distraction once I returned home. Now, with you, I am wonderfully happy and am quite content with moderate amounts of wine over meals or during our discussions of magic.”

Mr Norrell smiled fondly at him, and they started kissing again, an activity that continued at some length. Mr Norrell especially seemed as though he would never wish to stop. 

Mr Strange pulled back slightly with a grin. “Now that you have got past your reservations, you can’t get enough of this, can you?”

Mr Norrell smiled in return. “Well … I wish we had started doing this years ago, though the circumstances obviously did not permit it. Now that we have commenced, I believe that I wish to make up for lost time.” His smile faded as he continued hesitantly, “I must confess … That is, before you ceased to be my pupil, did you never suspect that I was in love with you? I sometimes felt that I hid it rather inadequately. Childermass would often roll his eyes at my behaviour, and I’m sure he at least suspected how I felt about you.”

Mr Strange’s grin also disappeared. “I occasionally wondered about that … but actually you hid it well enough that I never seriously believed you were. I thought it was just my imagination. As any of my friends would tell you, I was all too complacent about people finding me attractive.” He chuckled softly. “In recent years you have hidden your feelings so effectively that I was convinced that you hated me.”

Mr Norrell sighed. “I hated the things you did, the directions in which you were taking English magic. I hated you for leaving me in defiance of everything I had tried to teach you. I still loved you, however, which made me all the more angry that you were separating yourself from me. I always loved you.”

“For how long?”

“From the beginning. Well, not quite. Our first meeting left me with a quite unfavourable impression of you. The second, though, when you did your magic. You utterly enthralled me from that moment on!”

Mr Strange looked at him sadly. “That long. I am so sorry. It must have been a miserable time for you, these past eight or so years.”

“Not entirely. For years I had the great pleasure of being with you, as friends. Now it has come to this at last. At last! Can you wonder why I cannot stop kissing you? Not that I think I could manage a third time today, but I shall want us to do the same tomorrow, I warn you.”

Mr Strange stroked his cheek. “As shall I, I assure you. Lost time indeed!”

They lay silently for a long time, gently caressing each other and occasionally kissing. Finally Mr Norrell said, “I wonder why our visions were so different, given that we ended by enacting both. Why did you not see the kissing part at the beginning and why did I not see the … the….” He took a deep breath. “The fucking part at the end?”

Mr Strange grinned and kissed his forehead. “I would imagine that whoever sent us the visions—John Uskglass, probably, but whoever—meant to avoid frightening you away from enacting my part of the vision, while in my case … I suppose I saw what I saw in order to arouse me more excessively, to make me eager to seduce you into trying something distinctly more … um, physical and in your mind, more extreme. After all, I had never seriously thought of doing such a thing up to that point.”

Mr Strange pulled Mr Norrell more closely against himself, making sure to cover him up, and hugged him tight.

“My precious, darling Gilbert!” He kissed the top of Mr Norrell’s head, and there was a brief silence before he resumed, “I already feel a great deal better about being in the Darkness. And you?”

Mr Norrell sighed. “Oh, yes, Jonathan!” He stopped, his eyes round for a moment. “That is, um, if I may be permitted to address you so.”

Mr Strange laughed. “Of course you may! I’ve been calling you Gilbert, haven’t I? What’s more, we have just been as intimate with each other as two people can be. We can hardly be formal after that.”

“I suppose not. To … to own the truth, secretly I thought of you as ‘Jonathan’ and addressed you thus in my dreams, the ones I mentioned before.”

Mr Strange looked at him in mock indignation. “Why, you forward fellow!”

Mr Norrell looked at him uncertainly for a moment and then decided that he was probably being teazed. He chuckled and said, “Well, it is a very pleasant name, I think. Did you think of me as ‘Gilbert’ back in the time when we worked together?”

“No. After all, at the time I was not in love with you. I was always most respectful, both in thought and speech. That is, I sometimes expressed some annoyance at you for withholding books from me and later on considerably more than annoyance when you destroyed my book and so on. But I always did so respectfully. ‘Damn that Mr Norrell!’ I would say, and things of that sort.”

He noticed that Mr Norrell was not laughing at his description but was staring at him with wide eyes.

“What is it, Gilbert?”

“You … you said that you love me now. Is that true?”

Mr Strange stared back at him. “I did, didn’t I? Yes, I believe I do. We have grown very close during this time in the Darkness, and now … this … I cannot imagine us not being together, talking, doing magic, sleeping in the same bed … everything!” 

Mr Norrell laughed for joy and laid his head on Mr Strange’s shoulder. “Well, the sun may not rise tomorrow—for us, at any rate—but you are all the sunshine I need.”

Mr Strange pulled his head back to smile at him. “Gilbert, you are capable of being romantic, I am delighted to learn. I feel the same way about you.”

Mr Norrell yawned and looked at him rather blearily.

Mr Strange laughed and kissed him soundly. “Ah, well, so much for romance. Time for sleep and then another dark dawn and morning and noon and afternoon, all made glorious by you!” 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Weeks went by, and Mr Strange and Mr Norrell read about magic, talked about magic, made love once or twice a day, and slept very peacefully in the same bed each night.

One morning Mr Norrell and Mr Strange were lying side by side in bed—not asleep, though their eyes were closed—and enjoying the lingering peaceful satiation of their lovemaking the night before. Eventually Mr Norrell opened his eyes. He turned his head to gaze at Mr Strange’s beautiful face, dimly lit by the flames of a triple glass whale-oil lamp on the bedside table.

Mr Strange smiled and murmured, “You’re looking at me.”

Mr Norrell sighed and said, “Yes, how did you know?”

Mr Strange yawned and stretched lazily, his eyes still closed.

“Maybe it’s the warm glow of your love, washing over me.”

Mr Norrell smiled fondly and took his hand.

“Or maybe that warm glow simply results from the three blankets that you insist on us huddling under.”

Mr Norrell chuckled softly, stretching to kiss his cheek. “I think it’s my love.”

Mr Strange opened his eyes and returned his fond smile. “Of course it is.”


End file.
